


The Price We Pay

by ShadowsintheFire



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective!Spock, Slave!Kirk, Slavery, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsintheFire/pseuds/ShadowsintheFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on STID kinkmeme.</p><p>Just before Starfleet arrived, Jim was captured from Tarsus IV and sold into slavery. Years pass, and Jim resigned himself to a lifetime of slavery. One day, the Enterprise intercepts an Orion ship suspected of transporting slaves. Commander Spock leads the boarding party - and guess who he finds inside?</p><p>This is a story of loss, healing, friendship, and most of all, of love.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>James Tiberius Kirk met chocolate-brown eyes. </em></p><p>  <em>Their souls touched.</em></p><p>  <em>And the world was never the same again.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price We Pay

**Author's Note:**

> So... hi!
> 
> This is a fill for a kinkmeme prompt here: http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/2836.html?thread=2000148#t2000148
> 
> Enjoy!

He went down fighting.

Of course he did. After Tarsus, after Kodos, after goddamned Frank and the Kelvin, he didn’t know how _not_ to. After all, there were no such things as no-win situations.

It took five of the green-skinned, heavily-built Orions to subdue the frail wisp of a boy he’d become after the famine.

The Orion captain laughed himself silly.

 

****

 

He was on the platform, supported by a slaver. Eyes bruised, fire dimmed, still fighting.

His chin was lifted high, golden hair shining under the dim, fluorescent lighting of the action house. Waif-thin, trembling, defiant to the end.

Crystal blue eyes met purple. Bright and cold as amethyst jewels, set in a lime green face. He didn’t look away.

He saw the thin lips morph into a slow, malicious grin.

A bidding card raised, a gravel fell.

The slaver escorted him out, pity in his dark eyes.

 

***

 

He was shoved into a room. Black draped with red, opulent, gauche. On shaky legs, he stood, naked as the day he was born. Trademark blue eyes wild, as he scanned the room. Skin gleaming in the firelight – clean, scrubbed, oiled.

Something shifted. The bidder, rising like a giant bird of prey, smile wide and cold, teeth flashing in the gloom.

He backed away, Tarsus IV fresh in his mind. Still JT, still fighting.

Outside the room, two guards cringed as a scream echoed. The sound of irreplaceable innocence stripped away in the most horrific of manners.

They murmured a prayer, thanking whatever deities that watched over them that it wasn’t them. Thinking of a young boy whose innocence had been stolen all too early.

 

***

 

He was on his knees, a golden collar round his throat, hands bound behind his back in a crude knot.

Every rib showed on that tired, abused body. Food was still a novelty, but he had survived Tarsus, and this was no worse.

Hands were tangled in his hair, tugging, fire on his scalp, his master’s cock a solid weight in his mouth. He sucked, swallowed, and the master erupted.

He drank down his only meal of the day.

On the chair above him, the master watched, lazy and satisfied.

 

***

 

He was spread on the bed, limbs bound to the four corners.

A weight above him, hot breaths in his ear, wet kisses along his jaw. The cock thrusted in, parting rings of muscle and folds of flesh. In, out, in out, over and over.

Eyes blank, as master joined. The chains slackened, and he was lifted. Fingers at his asshole, probing, pulling.

Master shoved in.

Fire.

Delicate skin stretched and tore, crimson trailing down creamy thighs.

No one to hear him scream.

 

***

 

He was lying on a biobed, the light hurting his sensitive eyes.

The nurse took off the dressings, dabbed some cream, pronounced it to be healing well and left the room.

He glanced down. On his right hand, he saw a crisp, black brand. _EJ_ , surrounded by the crest of master’s house.

He stared blankly at it till he was escorted back to master’s quarters. He knelt, awaiting master’s presence.

As the nurse locked the door behind him, twin trails of crystalline tears slipped down her cheeks. She wondered if he knew it had been ten years since she had last cried.

 

***

 

He was bound to a pallet, IV tube attached, catheter inserted. Skin waxy, eyes dim, fading.

Shadows blocked the lights. Indistinguishable murmurs blending in with the static in his head. Body cramping, bruised, rectum still leaking blood and seed.

He saw a figure crouch, fleshy fingers grabbing his jaw, forcing his head to turn. A spoon held in his hand, dark promises in his eyes.

He shivered.

This time, he ate.

 

***

 

He was lying in the bed, master draped possessively over his chest, the ship’s engines humming in his ears.

The ship rocked, klaxon alarms blared. Voices yelling, boots slapping the metal deck. Whines of phasers, muffled screams suddenly cut off, master’s snores a crescendo in his ears.

He tilted his head minutely, hope in his heart. The door burst open, uniformed men spilling in. Master dragged away. Relief.

It was over.

Footsteps next to his bed, a figure kneeling. A gentle voice, even gentler hands.

He rolled his head to face the newcomer, battered soul shining from wet eyes, a diamond tear on an eyelash. Sharp-tipped ears, arching eyebrows – a Vulcan.

_Starfleet._

He wept.

 

***

 

James Tiberius Kirk met chocolate-brown eyes. Their souls touched.

And the world was never the same again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> R&R please!
> 
> It's all I get paid ^^
> 
> PS. Also, exams are starting soon. So the next chapter will probably be a month away. My apologies!


End file.
